


Attack the Floor (and Work it Low)

by pastelswitchblade



Series: Club iKON [1]
Category: iKON (Kpop)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Clubbing, Gay Bar, M/M, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:39:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5564020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelswitchblade/pseuds/pastelswitchblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You've been watching me."</p>
<p>In which Jinhwan is too hot and Junhoe is hopeless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attack the Floor (and Work it Low)

**Author's Note:**

> They're both twenty-five and everything is legal.
> 
> The title is from the first routine's song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eF1lU-CrQfc  
> And this is the second song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrIHRdC4Jh4
> 
> I just have a strong need for Jinhwan twerking.

Junhoe didn’t do this. Not usually. Today was special, he performed miracles at work today, and he deserved a treat for it. He deserved to unbutton his jacket and loosen his tie a fraction of an inch over a glass of bourbon. The fact that he found that bourbon at Club iKon was a complete coincidence. It had nothing to do with the male go-go dancers that littered the platforms and stages around the club’s dance floor. No, absolutely nothing.

It was especially unrelated to the ten o’clock show on the Club iKon mainstage featuring the team’s best dancers in a different routine every week. It was Friday, the unveiling night of the newest dance and Junhoe’s fingers tapped anxiously against his glass. It had been two weeks since he last came to the club; he’d missed last week’s routine completely. As much as he’d like to say he was unaffected, it was much more painful making it through a week of work without the memory of it. 

So here he was, indulging himself in this exploration into homosexuality and the erotic club scene that went with it. He was sure if any of his employees saw him here, it would be the talk of the office for weeks. Still, he sipped his bourbon and kept his head low, checking his watch impatiently as it clicked closer to ten. He avoided eye contact with the flirty bartender and squirmed in his seat. The pounding house music slowly faded and the lights in the club went dark. Junhoe spun his barstool around at wicked speed and watched a single spotlight come up on the center of the mainstage. The music began, and Junhoe could barely hear it over the pounding in his ears. Three dancers walked into the spotlight. He recognized two of them immediately, but the one in the middle was new. Did they add him last week? Is that what he missed?

Junhoe’s mind went blank as the music dropped and the dancers went into motion. 

The three of them were perfectly in sync as the routine began. The Club iKon dancers all had good chemistry on stage, but this was different. They moved as a single force, a three-pronged assault of sex and confidence. The newer dancer was smaller than the two he recognized, and not nearly as bulky. His skin was stark white and shined under the spotlight. He nearly looked out of place onstage, but the way his lythe body rolled through the air meant he belonged there.

The music was nonstop hard from start to finish, and gave Junhoe no time to recover from one eight count to the next. As the song came to climax, the three came together in the middle of the stage, moving against each other almost violently as if the key to survival was hidden in each other’s bodies. Junhoe was mesmerized by the expressions the new dancer made and the impossible sway of his hips. He felt personally offended when the song finally ended and the crowd erupted in chaotic cheers. The two larger dancers stayed onstage while the club soundtrack started again, but the third quickly made his way offstage. Junhoe stared until his pert little butt clad in the tightest of booty shorts disappeared behind a black curtain at the back of the club. 

“Like what you see?” 

Junhoe jumped as the bartender giggled behind him. He turned and shook his head, still wheeling from the performance. “That new dancer is great,” he said.

The bartender giggled again, high-pitched and fake. “New dancer? What, you mean Jinhwan? Please honey, he is anything but new.”

Junhoe finished his drink and paid. He wasn’t in the mood to play any of the bartender’s games and he’d rather process that performance by himself back in his one bedroom apartment. He went to bed that night with a wide grin on his face and gold booty shorts bright on the back of his eyelids.

Junhoe went back every night that weekend. And the next. And the next. Work flew by, his office struggling to keep up with Junhoe’s energy. Fridays were especially bad, as Junhoe tore through paperwork so he could get home faster. He still had to wait until ten for the show, spending torturous hours at home deciding whether or not to change. He never did, showing up to the club in his suit like he’d casually just gotten off work, but his cologne was fresh and his hair perfectly coiffed.

Jinhwan was performing again tonight, as he had every weekend since Junhoe saw him that first night.The song of the night was slower than the others, and had a jamaican feel. Jinhwan still matched the beat perfectly, his hips swaying and thrusting in what Junhoe knew must be illegal ways. Junhoe paid no attention to the other dancers, instead raking his eyes shamelessly over the small dancer’s body. Junhoe travelled up his chest and neck until for the first time, their eyes locked. Junhoe didn’t recognize what was happening at first until Jinhwan slowly winked and bit his lip, giving a particularly strong thrust of his hips. Junhoe went red from his ears to his chest and looked away. His heart pounded wildly, but he looked up again to catch the last few seconds of the performance. Once again, the other dancers stayed onstage and flirted with the audience but Jinhwan rushed off and out of sight. 

Junhoe turned back to the bar with his heart in his throat. Did Jinhwan, gorgeous and impossibly sexy Jinhwan, really look at him? See him?  _ Wink  _ at him? There was no way, the lights were dim around the bar and blinding near the front, there was no way he could see anything but a slightly Junhoe-shaped blob from the stage. Right?

The bartender suddenly clapped and crooned, running over to Junhoe’s side of the bar. 

“Bravo, baby! Slayed it again tonight, you know I live for you,” he giggled.

“Thanks, Seungri, but let me drink my Mule in peace.” A small, high voice pierced through the club din. 

“Anything you say, boss,” Seungri sighed, pouting as he fixed the drink. Junhoe barely noticed the man climbing onto the stool beside him, still caught up in calculating light physics and club visibility. It wasn’t until he felt a light tap on his shoulder that he turned and nearly choked on his drink. 

“Hello.” Jinhwan smiled up at him, and Junhoe’s mind went completely blank. Jinhwan looked considerably smaller from close up and swathed in a large puffy jacket. In the flashing club lights Junhoe could barely see a mole just under Jinhwan’s right eye. It was the most beautiful thing Junhoe had ever seen. 

“Hello?” Jinhwan asked again, his smile growing wider. His eyes crinkled into perfect little crescents and Junhoe was sure he would go blind if he stared any longer into the brightness.

“Ah sorry,” he mumbled into his bourbon. “Hi.”

Jinhwan chuckled. It was the sound of angels crying. Junhoe was gone. “I’m Jinhwan, what’s your name?”

“Jin-what. No. Junhoe.”

“Junhoe? Are you sure?”

Junhoe remembered how to breath and smiled. “Yes, I’m sure. You were very good. On stage, I mean. With the...dancing.”

“Thanks, I try. How did the crowd like it? I tried something new today, I’m not sure how it looked.”

“Tried something new?” Junhoe asked, confused.

Seungri snorted and Junhoe nearly jumped out of his seat. He had completely forgotten that the bartender, or the rest of the club, was even there. 

“How dumb can you be? I told you, this is fucking Kim Jinhwan.  _ The _ Kim Jinhwan? Owns the fucking club? Choreographs every dance that goes on the one and only Club iKon stage? Man, the only reason your sorry ass gets to see him dance is because Yunhyeong sprained his damn ankle on stage, a day you conveniently missed.”

“That’s enough, Seungri,” Jinhwan looked stern but his voice wavered slightly. The tips of his ears were the slightest bit pink and Junhoe resisted the urge to reach out and touch them.

“Wow, um...I didn’t know,” Junhoe stuttered, realizing that every explicit erotic routine he had seen at the club came from this tiny man’s brain.

“I didn’t expect you to. Seungri, go away please.  _ Now. _ ”

Seungri clicked his tongue and strutted away to the other end of the bar.

Junhoe watched the ice melt  in his glass. He hadn’t drunk much, and the shock of Jinhwan (holy shit,  _ Jinhwan _ ) next to him had sobered him up quickly. 

Jinhwan sighed and turned his stool to face the crowd. “You’ve been watching me,” he said.

“Um, yes. Your choreography is very good.”

“No, I mean you’ve been watching  _ me _ .” Jinhwan turned to face Junhoe head on. “Not my choreography.  _ Me _ .”

“You— you’re a dancer, of course I’ve watched you.”

“No, because I’m not a dancer. Not like the guys, anyway. Put me next to shirtless Bobby, who is the public going to look at? I’m just a filler until Yunhyeong gets back. But you, you’re different. Every night, you’re watching me. Why?”

Junhoe swallowed dryly. “It’s hard not to.” Jinhwan went quiet, so Junhoe tentatively asked, “How did you know I was watching you?”

Jinhwan took a sip of his drink. “Because I was watching you,” he said softly. “And when I looked at you, you were looking,” Jinhwan coughed and pulled his coat tighter around him, “Elsewhere.”

Junhoe panicked. Jinhwan was a person, a cute, sweet, very successful person, and he was treating him like a piece of meat. An object. Something to jerk off to in the shower when he was too stressed to sleep. He felt like the naked one now, his sins laid bare under Jinhwan’s soft gaze. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he choked. “I’ll just...I’ll just be leaving now, you have a very nice club, thank you for your time.” Junhoe fumbled with his coat as he threw cash onto the bar. “I’m sorry, have a nice day.”

“Whoa, wait— wait, big guy!” Jinhwan grabbed his arm, and Junhoe felt like he might cry. He should have never come to this club, at least now he knows for sure he is very gay, goodbye forever Club iKon, it’s been nice. He waited for a “big guy” sized scolding, but it never came. Instead, Jinhwan dragged him back into the club, past the bar and behind the black curtain.

“Please don’t beat me up, oh my God, I’m not nearly as strong as I look!” Junhoe blurted as they walked into a dim, narrow hallway. 

“Beat you— what? No, I’m not going to be you up,” Jinhwan smiled. “Trust me, that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“I’m sorry for staring at you.”

“Don’t be. I’m not mad, just confused I guess. People don’t usually look at me like that.” Jinhwan crossed his arms tight across his body. “It’s not that I don’t like it, I’m just...confused.”

“Why?” Junhoe asked. “I’m not the only one looking at you.”  
“That isn’t true.”

“Yes it is! God, you’re beautiful. If someone didn’t stare at you, they would be blind.”

“Beautiful?”  
Junhoe took a deep breath. “Yes, very beautiful.”  
Something in the air changed, the light seemed to shift, and in one swift moment Junhoe was backed against the wall with Jinhwan pressing into his body.

“What a coincidence,” Jinhwan whispered, his breath skating across the base of Junhoe’s neck. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

A small high pitch scream erupted somewhere in the back of Junhoe’s brain and he swallowed thickly. “Is that...is that why you winked at me?”

“Ah, so you saw that? Good, I was afraid you looked away too fast.” Jinhwan placed a small hand on Junhoe’s chest and suddenly the hallway felt much, much smaller.

“What is, what, what are you doing?”

Jinhwan sighed and patted Junhoe’s chest gently. “Look, I consider myself a patient man. I run a club with the most immature of employees, but I never raise my temper with them. I am the picture of serene leadership. But when some hot piece of ass stares at my naked body with such blatant hunger on his face for four straight weeks without doing a God damn thing about it, I get a little irritated with the hot piece of ass.”

“Am I the hot piece of ass?”

“Yes, Junhoe, you are the hot piece of ass. So right here, right now. What are you going to do about it?”

“Um. Kiss you?”

“That would be a good start, yeah.”

Junhoe wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and leaned down to press his lips gently against Jinhwan’s. He placed his other hand over the one on his chest, anchoring himself as Jinhwan licked against his lips. The kiss was deep, passionate, and Junhoe was drowning in the taste.

If Jinhwan’s body was hot onstage, it was positively sinful against Junhoe’s. Jinhwan’s hips rolled into him at an agonizingly slow pace, just enough to get him hard as a rock but not enough to get him off. His hand tighten in the back of JInhwan’s hair and Jinhwan moaned softly against his lips. The sound dug deep into his mind, and Junhoe’s sanity snapped.

He made quick work of the zipper on the parka Jinhwan had on and it fell to the ground with a small thump. He was still wearing his stage outfit, just a pair of work boots and booty shorts, and Junhoe nearly drooled at the sight. He latched his lips onto the pale skin right under Jinhwan’s ear, and let high pitched whines wash over him like a symphony. Jinhwan yelped and then laughed, ringing and sweet, as Junhoe scooped his legs into his arms and pressed him against the opposite wall. From this angle, Jinhwan’s shorts rubbed right against the growing bulge in Junhoe’s trousers and Jinhwan’s head fell back against the wall in a long, drawn out groan. 

He wrapped his legs around Junhoe’s back and whispered hoarsely, “Please, Junhoe,  _ God,  _ just fucking touch me.” Junhoe hesitated, just a second, before complying. He pressed the heel of his palm against the front of Jinhwan’s shorts, the other reaching down to grab a handful of his ass. Jinhwan cried out, and Junhoe prayed the club music would drown him out. Junhoe grinded into him desperately, his large hand closing over Jinhwan’s dick in long, drawn out strokes. Junhoe littered his neck with kisses and bites, some that would surely show at tomorrow’s show. Jinhwan made no move to stop him. Instead, he snaked a small hand between them to grab at the front of Junhoe’s pants. He let out a strangled gasp, already so close to cumming. 

“ _ Jinhwan, _ ” he groaned, “Fuck, I’m so close already.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,  _ fuck! _ ” 

“Me too. Cum for me then, cum for me baby I want to see it.”

Junhoe came hard, his mouth slack in shock as pleasure washed over him. Jinhwan put his own hand over Junhoe’s, moving it faster until he cried out and warmth spilled into Junhoe’s hand. He slumped against Junhoe’s chest, and Junhoe struggled to keep both of them upright. They stayed that way for a while, breathing heavy. Jinhwan nuzzled the side of Junhoe’s neck, leaving a small kiss in his wake. Junhoe was content to stay that way for the rest of his life, but wetness started to spill down his hand and a small, “Ew,” escaped him.

He felt Jinhwan grin against his neck and laugh softly. “Come on, there’s a bathroom back here,” he said, carefully climbing down Junhoe’s body. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

Junhoe’s employees were sure their boss had discovered recreational drugs. It was the only explanation for humming in the office, the sincere compliments, and his relentless determination to bring everyone coffee. His secretary finally solved the mystery when she was delivering him a stack of invoices.

“Thank you, Jenny, you’re the best,” he crooned, smiling up at her like a deranged puppy.

“Sir,” she started slowly, lowering her voice, “there’s glitter on your suit.”

“What? What glitt— oh.” Junhoe looked down; there it was. A light smear of Club iKon body glitter right on his lapel, still there from his first night with Jinhwan. Two dry cleaning trips later, and “The Herpes of the Craft World” lived up to its name. “That is...that’s nothing.”

“By chance, boss...did you get a girlfriend?”

“What? No, that’s ridiculous!” Junhoe scoffed. Perfectly on cue, Nicki Minaj blared out from his phone. He slapped it violently until the music stopped, cursing Jinhwan with his entire being. He should have never let him choose his own ringtone. “Ridiculous,” he said again, trying very, very hard to hide the growing smile on his face.


End file.
